His Father
by KateToast
Summary: Look for a flash of green. Spoilers for AWE. WE.


**Disclaimer**: I don't own _Pirates_.

**A/N:** Thought I'd take a stab at a 10-years-later fic through the PoV of Elizabeth and Will's son. Spoilers, obviously.

**XXX**

The wind breezed through the tall grass restlessly on a bluff on the island of Port Royal, the sun slowly making its descent down past the horizon, the blue sea darkening as the seconds flew by. The day had been bright and sunny and warm, and now it was coming to an end.

For most.

For others, the day was really just beginning.

William Turner III anxiously sat high up on the emerald green bluff, making sure to be at the best advantage for watching the sprawling sea ahead that felt only a step away from such a great height. He'd been waiting for this day for as long as he could remember, praying for this sunset to come as soon as it could. He'd spent the entire day with his eyes on the clear blue expanse, looking for a sign of something, _anything_, to break that line where water meets sky, even though his mother had told him repeatedly that there would be nothing until sunset.

William was a patient child, especially for a child of nine year's old, but today his entire personality had changed. It was the first day in a long, long time that William had wished to skip over entirely and get to the good part. He never flipped to the last pages of a story just to see how it ended, afraid he'd miss something important, but today, he had wanted to do just that.

And now that the day was fading away, William felt as if his own day were just dawning.

The sun was smaller, now, a bright half-circle of oranges and pinks and reds. William and his mother often watched the sunset together, no matter whether they were in their small home in Port Royal or on a ship in the middle of the ocean. She always whispered for him to look for a flash of green right as the sun disappeared.

He never saw one.

And if the disappointment in her eyes were any indication, his mother never did either.

William turned his head and looked back, his hard brown eyes seeking the person he loved most in the world. She had moved since he'd left her to sit by himself further up near the tall grass, and now she was standing motionlessly, her arms crossed over her chest, her face drawn and serious. Recently William had noticed his mother in this pose more often, stoically looking off across the sea, searching.

Elizabeth Turner was a strong, stubborn, and resourceful woman, but also a loving, caring, and doting mother. William had learned from an early age that she put up a façade much of the time, appearing happy and content, but her eyes always gave her away, especially to her astute son. She may have been the former governor's daughter, an amazing swordswoman, and the pirate king to boot, but she was also a woman in love, a woman missing her husband, and a woman raising her son alone.

Because of this, William tried his best to please his mother at all times, to bring her a bit of joy in her sadness, and he usually succeeded. He enjoyed the way her eyes lit up when he asked to hear the stories from her time on the seas, the way her face shone with excitement as she described sneaking on to a pirate ship and joining the crew, the way her hands gestured as she recounted the battles she'd taken part in.

But most of all, he enjoyed the way her smile grew when he asked questions about his father.

His mother had been honest with him since he'd first asked all those years ago, when he'd been a tiny boy wondering innocently where his father was, what his father's job was, what his father was like, where his father had come from. Elizabeth had begun telling him a new story each night, sometimes an exciting tale of an adventure involving Aztec gold or Davy Jones or _The Black Pearl_, and sometimes a wistful memory of a little boy with no family or a young blacksmith with exceptional swordsmanship or a loving man she exchanged vows with in the middle of a battle on a ship deck. The owner of the heart that was beating in the chest she kept beside her bed.

He hadn't heard stories only from Elizabeth. He and his mother had frequent visitors, all pirates, who knew his parents well and were always willing to spare a moment to talk to the young boy. William and his mother had spent a lot of time at sea over the years as well, traveling to foreign places with Captain Barbossa and Mr. Gibbs and, William's favorite, Jack Sparrow. He'd learned all the ship terminology there was to learn, had gotten to visit Shipwreck Cove and see his mother in all of her pirate king glory, and had met all sorts of characters from all around the world, all with at least one memory of Will Turner, former blacksmith, current captain of the _Flying Dutchman_, and permanent swashbuckling pirate.

William had come to idolize his father, the man he'd never known except through epic stories. At age five his mother had told him his father would be returning to them just after his ninth birthday, and he'd started counting down the days until then. He longed to meet the hero of his favorite stories, longed for a father's comforting hand on his shoulder, longed to see his mother's eyes clear of sadness. He didn't completely understand why his father hadn't been able to come home sooner, but comprehended enough from his mother's explanations that his father had an important job to do that required ten years of full service.

Ten years was hard for William to even try and imagine, especially since he was not even ten himself.

It was getting nippier on the top of the bluff, but the sun was so close to disappearing that William didn't have the heart to run over to his mother for warmth. Instead he stood and jogged forward, into the tall grass, the wind blowing his hair. He began singing a song Jack had taught him the first time he and his mother had voyaged out on _The Black Pearl_, one that William had realized was a pirate song. He'd taken to humming it on the ship when he was afraid, especially when the members of _The Black Pearl _clashed swords and fists with another ship's crew.

The sky was turning a brilliant shade of purple, and William knew it would not be long now. He chanced a glance back and saw his mother heading towards him, her face no longer solemn but open and wondering, her eyes no longer dull and weary but bright and excited.

He could practically feel the rocking of a ship under his feet and smell the salty air that could only be found in the middle of the ocean, and his mother's voice in his ear: look for a flash of green. And this time as he gazed out at another sunset, he had higher expectations than he'd ever had before. Nine years of waiting were screaming to be satisfied.

His mother was almost behind him. His pirate song was over. It was almost time…

William's eyes widened as the last of the sun was lost behind the horizon and grew even more when, just as his mother had promised, a huge flash of green light erupted from seemingly nowhere. Suddenly, there was a large, dark ship headed towards Port Royal at a surprisingly quick clip.

William knew it was him.

For a moment he didn't know what to do, and he found himself nervous. What if his father didn't like him? What if his father wasn't the hero everyone had made him out to be? What if his father left them for another ten years?

Somehow, the black ship was almost in the harbor, and William lost his nervousness and instead focused on watching a specific man on deck, who was standing by the side with a scarf holding back his shoulder-length hair and his shirt open and flapping at his sides. William felt his mother's hand on his shoulder and reached to hold it with his own, his fingers curling around hers and squeezing a little. She squeezed back reassuringly and grinned down at him.

"William," she said, as the man on the deck dove over the side and began swimming furiously towards shore, "that's him." Her voice was full of happiness and love and a hint of disbelief.

The man was rushing up the beach through the sand with bare feet, and from this distance William could see the man's brown wavy hair and the scar on his tanned chest and the sword by his hip, and the determination on his face as he ran up the bluff towards them.

Elizabeth's hand disappeared from her son's fingers and in an instant she was in the man's arms. William watched, his heart beating double-time and his stomach doing somersaults. This man with the sword at his side was his father. This man with the scar over his heart was his father. This man embracing his mother was his father. This man stepping back and turning his gaze towards him was his father.

For the first time in his short life, William Turner III looked upon this father and namesake. The boy saw his own eyes staring back at him, his own hair blowing in the wind, his own mouth turning up at the sides.

Elizabeth grinned from ear-to-ear and walked towards William, urging him to come forward. He complied and reached his mother, standing by her side as she let an arm wrap around his shoulders.

"Is he-" his father began to say, his voice rough, his eyes boring into the boy in front of him. "Is this-"

Elizabeth nodded with joy. "William Turner… meet William Turner," she said ironically, eyes crinkling. She gave William a small push towards his father.

Will could only stare at his son. William noticed his father's eyes were teary, and for a moment he was worried he'd made him cry.

Suddenly Will crouched down so he and William were eye level. He grinned and said simply, "Hello."

William rushed forward and Will opened his arms easily, catching his son and holding him tightly against his chest, against the place where a beating heart would be. William knew it wasn't there, but he could almost feel the thump as his father pulled him as close as he could.

He smelled of salt and sweat and sun and some sort of tropical fruit, and felt sturdy and safe and just what William imagined his father would feel like.

"I'm nine, you know," William whispered into his father's ear before pulling back so he could see Will's face again. Will stood tall and proud, and William imagined him sword fighting and steering a ship and yelling out orders.

"You don't say," Will said happily, nodding towards his wife, who was standing just behind them with tears coursing down her cheeks at this meeting.

Becoming very serious, William asked, "Are you going to be around for my tenth birthday?" He didn't want to be disappointed; he'd rather have the truth now.

Will's eyes softened and he placed his hand on his son's shoulder, just as William had always dreamed he would. "Yes, son, I shall be here for your next birthday."

William smiled the biggest smile he ever had and hugged his father's legs. He felt his mother come up behind him and join their embrace, and he felt the safest he ever had between both of his parents.

He had all sorts of questions, like what he'd done as a child, how he liked being a pirate, where had he been all these years, what kinds of places did he see and what kinds of people did he meet, if he would ever take him on an adventure, if being a pirate ran in your blood. But William figured they could wait.

Right now he was going to savor this moment of finally, _finally_, having his father.

**XXX**

_End._


End file.
